


Treasure Every Instant

by queerhazeleyes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, College, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, F/M, Future Fic, M/M, Pack Feels, Werewolf Danny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-18 14:05:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerhazeleyes/pseuds/queerhazeleyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the time comes for college, the pack goes as, well, a pack. This of course involves a lot of planning, determining living arrangements, and of course, negotiating with the local pack whose territory they're going to be in. Stiles ends up in the dorms with a human roommate who gets very confused by his extremely touchy pack and grouchy werewolf boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously a WIP - I hope to have a solid amount done by the end of November. I've also got some potential smut scenes scribbled into my outline; in the event that they actually get written, I'll up the rating. Enjoy!

“Four oh six, four oh six...” Stiles hurried down the hallway of his new dorm, a small box tucked under his arm, backpack hanging off the opposite shoulder and dragging a rolling suitcase behind him with his shiny new key clutched tightly in his hand. “Four oh six!” he said triumphantly as he arrived in front of the correct door. A few paces behind him, Derek huffed out a half-annoyed, half-amused sound and readjusted his grip on the large box he was carrying while Stiles shoved his key into the lock. With a quiet click the door swung open, revealing the usual bare-bones dorm room. There were two beds, two desks, and two dressers separated by a large window. A handful of boxes littered one half of the room but Stiles' roommate (someone named Nathan, according to the email from the university) was nowhere in sight.

Derek's nostrils flared as he scented the room, standing in the doorway. “Ugh. Tell me you have an air freshener in one of these boxes, please.”

“Um, probably?” Stiles said. He dumped his box and backpack onto the empty bed and propped the suitcase against the footboard. “Somewhere. Why?”

“It smells like old sweat, weed, and come in here.” Derek set his own box carefully on the ground in front of Stiles' dresser and immediately crossed the room to pull open the windows. “And a fan?” he added hopefully.

“Still in the Jeep.” Stiles bounced on the balls of his feet, considering the door. Should he leave it open while they made the rest of the trips to and from the car? Probably not. But unlocked maybe? He wasn't sure. If his hands were full he might have trouble getting to his key...

Derek pulled the key in question out of Stiles' unresisting hand and looped the lanyard it had come on over Stiles' neck. “If you can't reach it I can,” he said. Stiles had gotten used to the way Derek could practically read his mind – it wasn't actually mind-reading, Lydia had assured him during their senior year, Stiles just wore everything on his sleeve. And sometimes spoke his thoughts aloud without realizing it. A small blush crept up his neck but Stiles just nodded, grabbed Derek's hand and led him back out to the parking lot.

There weren't very many boxes in Stiles' Jeep – most of his things, like video games and movies, had already been taken over to the house Danny, Jackson and Issac had gotten a couple blocks off-campus – but he did carefully pick around what there was so Derek had to take the biggest, heaviest boxes. What was a werewolf boyfriend for if you couldn't get him to carry the heavy stuff, right? And Derek didn't really seem to mind beyond a little obligatory grumbling. Stiles did make sure to grab the tall fan, since they would have to make at least one more trip after this one. He didn't have a werewolf nose, but even he could smell the acrid combination of old sweat and halfhearted attempts at bleaching the linoleum-floored room. He made a mental note to text his father and get him to stop at a Target or Wal-Mart for a rug on his way to take them to lunch.

Halfway up the stairs Stiles was already panting. “Do they not believe in elevators here?” he asked grouchily.

“There's one at the end of the hall,” Derek pointed out, not out of breath at all (the stupid werewolf). “But with it being move-in day I figured it would be swamped.”

A glance down the hall when they passed the third-floor landing confirmed Derek's suspicions. Five people, arms full, exploded from the silver doors as they opened. It didn't appear anyone else could have fit inside, yet Stiles saw the hint of a blonde head hidden behind boxes in the back of the elevator as the doors closed again. He winced, took a deep breath, and powered on up the stairs. The summer away from lacrosse was already affecting him and he made another mental note to find the rec center so he could hopefully stay in shape.

At the door to his room Stiles set down the fan and dragged his key over his head and let them into the room again. Boxes were dumped onto the bed and he went about setting up the fan to blow warm but clean air into the room, forcing out the lingering smells of previous occupants. Derek was more careful about setting down his boxes (which Stiles was grateful for as he remembered belatedly that one of those boxes held his printer) and his nostrils flared again as a figure appeared in the doorway.

It was the blonde boy Stiles had seen in the elevator, balancing three boxes on top of each other in his arms and all but blocking his field of vision. He toddled blindly to the other side of the room and set his boxes down carefully before turning to Stiles and Derek.

“Hi,” he said. “I'm Nathan.” He wiped his hand on his jeans and offered it to Derek. The older man took it, still looking apprehensive about Stiles' new roommate.

“Derek,” he said. Another deep inhale through his nose and Derek's expression softened, a friendly smile gracing his face. Apparently Nathan didn't smell threatening. Good.

Stiles scrambled up from the floor (why did they install all the outlets in hard-to-reach spots anyway?), wiped his own hands on his jeans and shook Nathan's hand in turn. “Stiles. Stilinsky. I go by Stiles. I'm your roommate.” His grin was maybe a little too wide.

“Nice to meet you,” Nathan replied.

“I'm gonna get what's left in the Jeep,” Derek said, grabbing Stiles' car keys out of his front pocket and nodded towards the door. “You can start unpacking.”

“Alright,” Stiles said. He remembered the rug problem and pulled out his cell phone to text his father.

Nathan stood awkwardly for a moment before turning to rip open one of his boxes. “Was that your brother?” he asked.

“Huh?” Stiles asked, head snapping up from his half-typed text. “Derek? No. No no no. He's my boyfriend.” The words fell from his mouth and Stiles quickly bit his lip. So that was out there. He really hoped he wouldn't have to put in a request for a roommate change on the first day.

But all Nathan said was “Oh,” and if it was a little startled that wasn't too alarming. Right? Right. Stiles swallowed and started rummaging for the air freshener that had to be in one of his boxes. “Um,” Nathan said after a minute. “I've got more stuff in the car, I should-” and he darted nervously from the room. He passed Derek in the hall and managed a quick smile before ducking his head and half-jogging towards the stairs.

“Your brother?” Derek asked as he set two more boxes down.

“You heard that? How did you hear that?” Stiles wrestled with the packing tape holding the largest box closed and grunted in frustration.

Derek slipped out his claws, leaned over and slit the box open neatly, then tucked his claws away again. “I was listening,” he said. “Do I really look like your brother?”

Stiles looked up and grinned at the familiar grumpy look on Derek's face. “Maybe just because boyfriend isn't the automatic assumption?” he offered, standing to be on level with the werewolf. His grin grew as he moved to put Derek between himself and the bed and then boxed him in by placing his arms on either side of his hips. “Most people assume strangers are straight, you know.”

“Hmm.” Derek raised his eyebrows at Stiles. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” Stiles closed the distance between them and placed a kiss on Derek's lips. He still tasted like the forest in Beacon Hills, and Stiles wondered if he always would, if the woods and Derek were just that much a part of each other or if it was just his memory that twined them together like that. Derek made a small, pleased noise against his lips and grabbed hold of Stiles' waist to pull him close. Stiles groaned and nipped lightly at Derek's bottom lip before forcing himself to pull away. The door was still open, after all, and Nathan would—

—Be standing in the doorway blushing, apparently. He slipped in to put down his things before darting away without a word.

“You knew he was there, didn't you?” Stiles accused, jabbing a finger at Derek's chest.

“Of course.” A quick sniff and Derek tore into a medium-sized box, dug around for a moment and came up with Stiles' air freshener. “Just removing doubt.”

Stiles shook his head and shoved at him lightly, and even though it shouldn't have moved him at all Derek allowed the movement to push him onto the bed, laughing.

 

* * *

 

While waiting for Stiles’ dad to arrive, Derek and Stiles managed to get most of his boxes unpacked and things put away. Clothes went into the dresser and the little bit of closet space afforded, his bed made. Even a few keepsakes were scattered across his desk, like the arrowhead from the first time he got shot by a hunter (Derek and Scott both insisted it was morbid and creepy, but to Stiles it reminded him of the first time he really felt part of the pack), a dried boutonniere from Senior Prom, which he went to with Derek, and of course a framed photo of the pack at graduation.

Nathan had gone out with his own parents so Derek and Stiles even had a little time to themselves—which of course Derek used to leave a large, dark hickey high on Stiles' collarbone. He had Stiles pinned to the door and was putting the final touches on said hickey when Stiles' phone went off with a text from his father asking to be let into the building. Stiles blushed, pulled on a collared shirt over his tee and checked for his key before going downstairs with Derek.

“Hey Dad!” Stiles said. John Stilinski stood back from the front door of the building, a rolled-up rug on end tilted to rest against the wall beside him. Stiles rushed forward for a hug even though he’d seen his father the night before, before the Sheriff had to go on duty.

John hugged his son tightly. “Hey, Stiles,” he said. “Hi, Derek,” he added with a nod to the werewolf who stood in the doorway. “You two get everything squared away?”

“Yes sir,” Derek answered. John had reacted surprisingly well to his son dating an older man who was also a werewolf and past murder suspect, so Derek always made sure to be on his best behavior around the man. Stiles just rolled his eyes.

“We’re meeting the McCalls for brunch,” John said, pulling away from Stiles to grab the rug. “Melissa just called and said they’re just about nearly ready, so let’s get this upstairs and get going.” 

A quarter hour later Derek, Stiles, John, and Scott and Melissa McCall were perusing their menus at the nearby IHOP when the waitress came by. Stiles was inclined to order the all-you-can-eat pancakes and he figured Scott would do the same. Melissa decided on an omelet with spinach and mushrooms, and despite his son’s glares John ordered French toast with bacon and eggs on the side. Surprising no one, of course, Derek got a breakfast combo that included eggs, bacon, sausage and ham. Once their orders were written down and the waitress gone, Stiles poked Scott.

“Met your roommate?” he asked.

“Not yet. His stuff was there, though,” Scott replied. “You met yours?”

“Yeah. Derek scared him away though.”

“I did not!” Derek protested, but he was smiling.

“Did so,” Stiles insisted. “Most people freak out when you _sniff_ them and then they walk in on you making out with their brand new roommate.”

“You guys didn’t,” groaned Melissa.

Derek folded his arms insolently and slumped in his seat like a teenager. “He thought I was Stiles’ _brother_ ,” he pouted.

John just laughed and elbowed Derek in a friendly manner. “I doubt you scarred the kid for life. Heard from the rest of your cubs?”

“Allison is at the hotel with her dad, wants to spend as much time with him as she can before he has to go back to Beacon Hills,” Derek offered. “Erica’s making Isaac and Boyd carry all her stuff into her room, even though Boyd has his own dorm to move into. They’re in the same building, though, so I think Danny’s getting most of Boyd’s stuff while he helps Erica.”

The waitress returned with a tray covered in food and conversation paused for a minute while everyone rearranged things so all the plates could fit on their table. Stiles and Scott dug in immediately, cutting their pancakes jaggedly and stuffing huge bites into their mouths in the fashion of teenage boys everywhere. After finishing an entire pancake in record time, Stiles swiped his mouth and returned to the previous conversation.

“Lydia got a single room,” he said, picking up where Derek left off discussing the pack. “Her parents rented a freaking moving van, and she _filled it up_. She’s making Jackson carry things, though I don’t know how much time she’ll even spend there. She’s over at the boys’ house more than Jackson is.”

Melissa took a sip of water. “The boy’s house?” she asked.

“Jackson, Danny and Isaac have a place off-campus,” Scott said (thankfully after swallowing his mouthful of bacon). “It’s super nice. They got a big TV and these massive couches that take up most of the living room but like all of us can fit on them.” Melissa nodded and turned to chat with John about something that had happened the previous week.

“Speaking of, we’ve got a pack meeting on Friday as soon as all of you are out of class,” Derek said, swiftly stealing a pancake off Stiles’ plate. Stiles squawked in protest, poking Derek with his fork, but didn’t steal the pancake back. “And I expect you to be on your best behavior until then.”

“Why?” asked Scott.

“Because there’s already a pack here and we need to make nice with them unless everybody fancies finding a new school,” Stiles reminded him with an eye roll. “Derek’s meeting with the local Alpha this week but there’s probably going to be more meetings after that.”

“Meetings?” John asked. “Why?”

Derek cleared his throat and fiddled with his food. “Well, I’ve been communicating with Alpha Ubick this summer. Her pack is big, a lot bigger than ours, but she’s consented to let us live in her territory while the pups are in school. But living in another pack’s territory is a tricky thing, and she’s going to have some conditions.”

“What kind of conditions?” John’s voice was taking on a hard, worried note and Stiles cut across Derek to answer.

“You know, the basics, like don’t go on murderous rampages across the town, don’t shift during school events or go streaking with your eyes glowing and your claws out,” he answered seriously, waggling a piece of bacon in his father’s direction. John stole it out of his fingers and ate it before Stiles could protest. “Oh, come on, how come everyone steals my food?” he whined.

Everyone laughed and Derek slipped a hand under the table to rub circles on Stiles’ knee. They both knew the Alpha’s restrictions could be a lot more stringent than that, but neither the Sheriff nor Mrs. McCall needed to know that. They would only worry even more about their sons than they needed to, and Derek loved the way Stiles could disrupt any conversation.

 

* * *

 

Late that evening, after the Sheriff and Mrs. McCall had left to drive back to Beacon Hills, Derek pulled Stiles into the shadow of his dorm and kissed him. It was a softer kiss than any of the ones that morning, all moving lips and soft breaths and ended by Derek’s tongue swiped across Stiles’ bottom lip.

“What was that for?” Stiles asked, hope in his eyes. Derek’s apartment was a bit of a walk, but Stiles didn’t mind if it meant he was going to get laid tonight.

Derek shook his head, smiling the way he only did around Stiles. “Goodnight, Stiles,” he said.

“Wha—goodnight?” Stiles laced his fingers and Derek’s together. “Are we not going back to your place?”

“Not tonight.” Derek kissed their linked fingers. “You should head inside, maybe get to know your roommate a little, sleep. Classes start in the morning.”

“But,” Stiles whined, leaning forward to nip at Derek’s collarbone, “your place is nice, and what if I don’t get to see you again til Friday at the meeting? We haven’t had sex in days!”

“Day,” Derek corrected. “Less than that, really, since I distinctly remember you on top of me at two this morning.” He nipped at Stiles in return before gently extricating himself from his grasp. “And we’ll have time alone on Friday, if not before then.”

“Okay.” Stiles darted forward to steal one last kiss and hugged Derek tightly. “Thanks for helping today.”

“I love you,” Derek said, squeezing Stiles in return.

“I love you too.” Stiles let go and turned to head into his building, head only hanging a little.

 

* * *

 

Instead of going home to his little apartment, Derek drove out to the woods and ran for a while. Eventually he stopped in a clearing and checked his watch. He was supposed to meet with the local Alpha in about ten minutes. Rather than seeking her out, he stopped and leaned against a tree. These woods were her territory, after all, and she would be able to find him easily.

Sure enough, at nine o’clock exactly an older woman came walking towards Derek from across the clearing. He straightened his posture.

“Alpha Hale,” she said.

“Alpha Ubick.”

“Pups all tucked in for the night?” she asked, eyes glowing red out of the darkness.

“My pack has classes to attend in the morning,” he replied, letting his own eyes flash red. He may have come to supplicate, but he was still an Alpha in his own right. Scenting the air as a breeze came through, he noted she was alone, something she’d probably meant as a power play. I don’t need my pack with me, I can handle you just fine on my own, was what it said. Derek knew it was true, too.

“The one you’re sleeping with, too? Must be hard, left in a cold, empty bed.”

Derek bared his teeth at her and let his claws lengthen. “My mate is my business,” he growled.

Surprisingly, the other Alpha nodded in acknowledgment. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll keep it in mind. Shall we get down to business, then?”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, originally this was supposed to be Chapter Three. However, I was getting absolutely nowhere writing chapter 2, so I decided to cut some bits and rearrange others, making this chapter 2 and putting the info that was going to be in this chapter into a later one instead. My brain has just not been cooperating. But, anyway, here's the chapter, the next one will be up probably this coming weekend, since I'll be without internet for the latter half of the week. I will be writing over the holiday, though.
> 
> On that note, happy Thanksgiving to all my American readers! Eat good food, tolerate your families, and remember that it's one of our many national holidays made possible thanks to genocide and biological warfare!

As soon as Stiles got out of class on Friday afternoon he walked across campus to the house Jackson, Danny and Isaac had rented. It was big and nice, especially for a college rental, and Stiles knew most students wouldn't be able to afford it. It had been a fraternity house, until the fraternity was disbanded the year before.

The front door was unlocked, like it always was if someone was home. On the rare occasion that the house was empty, though, the whole pack knew how to find the spare key hidden under the rain gutter. Stiles let himself in.

“Come on, babe, we’re gonna brush the sky,” he heard Isaac singing from the kitchen. He had a fondness for musicals, especially Broadway, and in the last year he’d managed to teach most of the lyrics to his favorites to both Erica and Allison. They wouldn’t sing as readily as he would, but he had a habit of roping them into duets when he cooked.

Sure enough, Allison’s voice joined in on the next line. “I bet you Lucky Lindy never flew so high!”

Erica’s joined next, laughing as she sang. “Cause in the stratosphere how could he lend an ear to all that jazz.”

“Hi!” Stiles called out, unnecessarily. The house was full of werewolves, of course they knew he was here. But it helped him find the other people in the house.

“Hey,” Danny called from the living room. He was snuggled on the couch with Lydia and Boyd playing Mario Kart. Naturally they were all swearing and jostling each other - Boyd nearly fell off the couch at one point. Stiles dumped his backpack by the front door and collapsed onto the couch next to them.

“Where’s the others?” he asked.

“Isaac, Erica and Allison are in the kitchen—”

“—Obviously—” Stiles interjected. The singing was still coming through the doorway.

Lydia rolled her eyes and continued, taking over first place in the race as she did so. “Jackson’s still in class, I think Scott is too. Derek’s stopping at the store to get some stuff Isaac needs for dinner but he should be here soon.”

Stiles nodded and launched himself off the couch. “I want in on the next race,” he announced before wandering into the kitchen. Isaac was dancing with Erica while Allison giggled from her spot sitting on the counter and two large skillets of hamburger meat sizzled on the stove. “Does this mean tacos for dinner?” Stiles asked.

“To start,” replied Isaac, letting go of Erica and turning to prod at the meat. “We’ll see how hungry everyone is once we polish this off. We might order a couple pizzas.”

“Stiles,” Erica drawled. She slunk across the room to grab him around the waist. “You smell different.”

“Huh?” Stiles asked. “What do you mean?”

“You smell different,” she repeated. “You don’t smell like Derek, for one. Or the rest of us.”

“It’s only been a week. How do I not smell like any of you guys after a week?” Stiles squirmed out of Erica’s grasp and pulled his tee shirt up to his nose, trying to smell himself.

“She’s right,” Isaac said. He’d left the meat to cook so he could sniff at Stiles himself.

Allison frowned. “Oh, stop smelling him,” she insisted, hopping off the counter and coming to wrap her arm around her girlfriend’s waist. “He can’t smell all that different; it’s only been a week.”

“Well he does,” Erica insisted.

“Well it’s been a busy week,” Stiles said irritably, shouldering both wolves out of the way and going back into the living room where Lydia was celebrating her victory on Rainbow Road. “C’mon, gimmie a controller.” Danny put his own controller into Stiles’ hand while Boyd set his down.

“If you think you can beat Lydia, go for it,” Boyd offered, snuggling into Danny’s side and dropping a kiss on his boyfriend’s lips.

“She’s been beating Jackson and me at Mario Kart since we were thirteen,” Danny added, leaning into Boyd.

The door opened as Lydia and Stiles started their race and Derek came in carrying shopping bags. He grunted at the group on the couch before continuing into the kitchen. Isaac’s singing was interrupted for a minute as he thanked Derek for the beer and a couple bottles of wine the boys would use to cook with later in the week. Stiles forgot to eavesdrop when Lydia hit him with a green turtleshell and knocked him off the track. He cursed and focused on the game.

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice was insistent and close. Stiles grunted in response. “Stiles.” Derek practically crawled into Stiles’ lap, blocking his view of the game.

“I’ve only got half a lap left and goddamned Luigi is the only one beating me,” Stiles whined, trying to lean around his lap full of werewolf.

“Erica said you don’t smell like us.” Derek nuzzled Stiles’ neck and growled. “Stiles. Why don’t you smell like me? Why is Erica right?”

Stiles gave up and tossed the controller to Danny (or Boyd - the two were curled around each other, only leaving Lydia her own space because of the game). “Maybe because I haven’t seen any of you for more than five minutes all week?” he offered, shoving ineffectually at Derek. “Classes just started. It’s busy. Derek.”

Derek continued to rub himself against Stiles, rather like an over-large cat, Stiles thought. He growled again and started to suck a hickey where his old one had faded. “I like it when you smell like me,” Derek breathed against the mark.

“Uh, yeah, I get that, but—”

The front door open and Scott tumbled through it in his typical fashion. “Hey,” he said, before catching sight of Derek and Stiles on the couch. “Oh, God, my eyes! Derek, can you, just, not molest my best friend where I have to watch?” He all but ran into the kitchen, covering his eyes.

“You and Isaac are just as bad!” Lydia shouted after him. “So are Boyd and Danny, and Allison and Erica, for that matter.”

“Don’t forget you and Jackson,” Danny reminded her with a poke.

“The whole damn pack is practically an orgy,” Erica drawled, stepping out of the kitchen. “Food’s ready. Where the hell is Jackson?”

“Class, but he should get out soon,” Lydia said, pausing her game. “If he misses out on the food it’s his fault.”

Derek reluctantly climbed off Stiles and the pack moved to the kitchen, filled plates and returned to the living room to eat. When Jackson arrived ten minutes later there was, surprisingly enough, still some food left on the stove and he joined them without a word.

After all the food had been eaten (and Danny called a local pizza place for delivery) Lydia turned to Derek. He was still insistently covering Stiles in his scent as thoroughly as possible without taking off clothes and he looked impatiently at her when she cleared her throat. “So. What’s the deal with the local pack?” Derek growled irritably but she pressed on. “You met with the Alpha last week. So what’s the deal?”

When glaring and growling did nothing, especially as the rest of the pack looked on impatiently, Derek sighed. “Well, we’re a small pack, but they’re still not very happy with us moving in. I explained that it’s only temporary, but, well. With our history, and with all of you being bitten and not born, and with us being such a young pack…”

“Our history?” Jackson snapped. “What history?”

“With hunters,” Allison said softly. “We sorta had a lot of trouble in Beacon Hills, after all. They probably don’t want a bunch of stupid, young, bitten wolves bringing hunters into their territory.” She looked at Derek. “Right?”

“Right.” Derek frowned. “They want a meeting, before the full moon.” He nosed at Stiles’ neck unhappily. “The whole pack. If we’re a threat to their safety, then we’ll be forced to relocate.”

Erica cocked her head at him. “Why did that last bit feel like a lie?” she asked.

Derek glared at her. “The alpha may have… not exactly put it that way.” The pack winced. Death threats, then.

“Well then we’ll meet with them,” Lydia said. “We won’t cause trouble. We’re not the same pack as we were when we had that trouble with the hunters. Peter’s traveling Europe, Jackson isn’t a lizard anymore, and we spend most of the full moon wrestling each other.” She spoke with the authority she’d earned as Derek’s second in command, clearly irritated that he hadn’t included her in the initial meeting with the local Alpha. “We can meet this weekend. No one has class, or jobs, and the full moon is only a week away. We can’t waste time.”

Derek huffed a breath against Stiles’ neck. “Fine. I’ll call her later.”

The doorbell rang and Stiles launched himself from the couch to get the pizza.

* * *

The next night found the Hale pack, formerly of Beacon Hills, assembled in the woods waiting for the local Alpha, Gillian Ubick. Her pack was massive compared to the ones anyone but Derek had ever encountered before, so they didn’t expect her to bring them all - probably just a handful of her lieutenants, as many as she thought she might need to keep the much smaller, much younger pack in check, or as many as she needed to demonstrate her power.

“She’s keeping us waiting on purpose,” Scott groused after twenty minutes.

“Shut up,” Derek ordered through gritted teeth. “We’re in her territory, she has the right.”

“Damn straight I do,” Gillian replied, striding towards them out of the woods. She was an older woman, probably in her mid-fifties, but she moved just as fluidly as Erica did - obviously her age didn’t mean much physically. Her hair was blonde streaked with grey and hung to her shoulders. Her eyes glinted Alpha red as she came to a halt a few yards from where Derek stood with his pack. “Hale.”

“Ubick.” Derek turned to face her fully. His pack was ranged behind him: Lydia was barely half a step back, with Danny and Boyd just behind her as the strongest wolves. Isaac, Allison, Stiles and Erica were in line behind them, with Scott and Jackson (who had the poorest impulse control) in the back.

Gillian glanced over them all and made a small gesture. Three other wolves, all Betas and shifted just enough to show their eyes and claws, stalked out of the forest behind her. “So. Here you are. The infamous Hale pack.”

“We may have got in a bit of trouble a few years ago,” Lydia said, making sure to tip her head back just enough to keep from seeming insolent, “but I’d hardly say that made us infamous.”

Gillian folded her arms. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted. “Maybe not. You’re a unique morsel, though, aren’t you? A witch for your second, Hale?” She glanced from Lydia to Derek. “I’m surprised. I thought you had a human mate.”

“I do,” Derek replied. “That doesn’t mean he’s my second. I doubt that your mate is your second, after all. My father was never my mother’s, either.”

Gillian smirked. “No, he isn’t. So, you did get to learn some, before the fire.” Her expression softened slightly. “I am sorry for the loss of your family. I know it was a long time ago, but, I had friends among your pack.”

Derek nodded mutely. Allison shifted her stance. Gillian’s gaze snapped to her.

“Another oddity. Daughter of a hunter, part of a wolfpack.” She sniffed the air. “Mated to a wolf, as well, unless I’m mistaken.” Erica didn’t move. “Why not take the bite, little hunter?” Gillian taunted.

Allison looked to Derek before responding. “I get along well with what I have,” she answered.

Gillian nodded and glanced over to Stiles. “Ah, the mate. Really, Hale, I’m not sure what you see in this one. Scrawny, isn’t he?”

Stiles resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her. “I pull my own weight,” he said instead.

“And why haven’t you taken the bite?”

“Someone has to keep their head when these guys get drunk on moonlight,” he replied. Despite the warnings Derek had given about challenging the other Alpha, Stiles met her gaze. Gillian considered him a moment before merely nodding.

“You’ve got a brave mate, Hale,” she said. She glanced over the other wolves, particularly Jackson and Scott. Stiles thought she looked surprised that two of their biggest wolves had the lowest status, below the humans even, but she didn’t comment or address them. “All right. Here’s the deal I’m prepared to offer.” She stepped forward, moving into Derek’s space. “Your pack can stay, on a few conditions. One, as soon as your pups have graduated from the college, you leave or you join my pack. Two, you don’t give the bite to anyone, in this territory or otherwise, without consulting me. Your pack is a big enough threat without tossing in a brand new wolf. Three.” She stepped even closer, face inches from Derek’s own. “You bring hunters down on me and mine, and I will kill you personally.”

“Understood,” Derek replied, holding her stare. “My Betas know how to control themselves. So do I.”

Gillian moved back to her former position among her wolves. “I can see that. I just hope it holds during the full moon, or we’ll have trouble.”

Derek nodded.

A few tense moments passed before Gillian dismissed her Betas, turned her back on Derek and his pack and walked back into the woods.

Only after they could no longer be seen or heard did Derek and his pack move to leave.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took so long, I had every scene finished but the last two DAYS ago (some of the first scene was originally intended for the chapter I scrapped, but re-purposed here). I've never written smut before and had a little difficulty getting going. That said, note the changed rating and remember this is my first EVER attempt at writing a sex scene when you get to that part of the chapter.

Stiles woke up reluctantly early on Monday morning. Half-asleep, he groped around the bed before nearly falling out - he had forgotten that not only was Derek not lying next to him, but there was no room for him to do so because his new bed was tiny. It was deceptive, because the bed smelled like Derek - he and Stiles had slept on the sheets for a week before the move-in just for that purpose, because while Stiles may not have a werewolf’s nose, he’d gotten used to his bed smelling like his boyfriend over the last year. Stiles groaned into his pillow. _Coffee_ , he thought. _Coffee can get me through the morning._

Dressing in a comic book tee shirt and jeans, Stiles examined the hickey Derek had left on his throat Friday. It was low enough that he could cover it by pulling on a collared shirt, but Stiles didn’t feel like covering it up. Maybe it was a wolf thing, or an Alpha thing (Erica wasn’t as obsessed about leaving hickeys all over Allison, and neither was Jackson with Lydia - well, actually maybe, Lydia did have quite the hand with concealer) or maybe just a Derek thing, but he’d been focused on marking Stiles as ‘his’ since they got together the year before. By now the only people he bothered hiding the marks around were his father and Scott’s mom; the pack all knew anyway and it made him feel special when the other kids at school would see them, knowing who put them there. Stiles preened in the mirror for a moment, rubbing a fingertip across the bruise. It only hurt a little, far less than some that Derek had made in the past if a bit more than most.

A glance at his phone had Stiles grabbing for his backpack and keys and dashing out the door. During the last week he’d noticed a little coffee stall on the way to his first class - English, which he shared not by coincidence with Lydia and Boyd.

The girl behind the coffee counter looked bored and hardly more awake than Stiles, but she made his coffee quickly and well enough for Stiles to toss a couple dollars into the tip jar next to the register. She smiled at that, interest lighting in her eyes as she came out of the early-morning stupor enough to notice her customer. Stiles just smiled in return and rubbed at the back of his neck - she seemed disappointed when she noticed the hickey but not enough to keep from calling out “Have a nice day!” as he left for class.

Hot paper cup in one hand and classroom number still scrawled on the back of the other (just in case), Stiles sipped at his latte and glanced around the hall for a reminder as to which way his class would be. That reminder, however, turned out to be none other than Lydia Martin, holding her own coffee cup, strawberry blonde hair bouncing perfectly as always as she came down the hall towards him.

“Stiles!” she said with a smile. “Awake?” Her heels made a crisp noise against the wood floor. She didn’t pause in her stride as she came up beside him, just snagged his elbow with her own and kept walking.

“Uh, mostly,” Stiles said, shifting into gear so he could keep up.

“I’ve been up about three hours so far,” Lydia continued, barely noting his response. “Still, I was practically nodding off in Physics earlier; why on earth is it so much harder to wake up for college classes than it was for high school, even though they start the same time?” Stiles shrugged, he’d been wondering the same thing himself. She glanced up at him and noted the mark on his neck. “Stay over at Derek’s last night?”

Stiles took a large swig of his coffee. “No. You’d think, after all the fuss about me not smelling like him, but he dropped me off at the dorm, said to get a good night’s sleep. Didn’t do me any good.” He mumbled the last under his breath, but Lydia caught it anyway. Sometimes he was glad she was immune to the Bite - human Lydia was intimidating enough, he couldn’t bear to imagine her with wolf powers, especially in addition to her witchy ones.

“Didn’t sleep well, then?” was all she asked, dragging him down a side hallway Stiles noted as vaguely familiar. Her eyes were on the numbers posted beside the doors now.

“Not really. Just not used to sleeping alone, I guess. And the beds are too damn small.”

Lydia steered him through a doorway on their left into a half-full classroom. Boyd sat in the middle of the room - closer to where Lydia and Stiles had sat the past week than his previous spot in the back fo the room - with his backpack at his feet and a notebook open on his desk. Lydia sat in the front row a couple seats away and Stiles slid into the seat behind her, raising his coffee in salute to Boyd.

The professor entered at exactly ten o’clock and without preamble, began lecturing the class on MLA format. In front of Stiles, Lydia sighed and slumped in her seat. Stiles distracted himself by playing with the ends of her hair that fell onto his desk, only listening to the professor with half an ear.

* * *

Derek and Lydia were having a staring match.

It was summer between the pack’s junior and senior years, and everyone was gathered in Stiles’ living room for a meeting. Usually Derek would open the meetings once everyone had grabbed a snack and settled somewhere in the room, but it had been almost a full minute since everyone sat down and he had done nothing but stare at Lydia. She was sitting in the middle of the room, arms crossed, staring right back. One by one, everyone stopped chatting and began staring at them, curious about why Derek hadn’t said anything yet. Eventually Lydia sighed dramatically and stood.

“We need to talk about colleges,” she said.

Around the room, everyone shuffled uncomfortably in their seats. College was a topic they had avoided quite purposefully up to this point, not wanting to think about schools and saying goodbye and moving away from each other.

Lydia looked at Derek, who just raised an eyebrow for her to continue. She sighed again, dramatically. “Derek and I have been talking, and we’ve agreed that it would be bad for the pack, as a pack and as individuals, to spend so much time cut off from each other. So everyone scattering to different colleges, not really an option.”

“But-” Scott piped up.

“You don’t have enough control,” Derek interjected. “I seriously doubt a year will make enough of a difference, either. Without me around as your Alpha, full moons would be a disaster. And if you’re all over the country, or even all over the state, I obviously can’t spend the full moon with all of you to keep you from going on killing sprees.”

Scott hung his head; he and Jackson, despite being the first ones bit, had the worst impulse control of the group and probably would be the most likely to lose control in the situation described.

Lydia cleared her throat and went on. “Obviously not going to college is also not at all an option. Even though Allison, Stiles and I could go off wherever we like without losing control like the rest of you, it still wouldn’t be good for the pack, and the rest of you need degrees too. So,” she pulled a small notebook and a pen from her purse and flipped to a blank page, “I had a thought. We all go to the same school. There are plenty of schools with good math programs, computer science programs,” she nodded at Danny, “and everything else. Stiles and I will do research on possible options, but I need to know what everyone wants to go into.” Scott opened his mouth to speak, but Lydia anticipated his question. “If you don’t know, that’s okay. But at least a general direction - math, science, history, politics, English - would help.” She handed her notebook to Isaac. “Write down a couple of ideas, probably, and we can go from there.”

“But it’s summer,” Scott protested, clearly not learning the lesson about not talking while Lydia was speaking. “College is like, a year plus away. Why do we have to start now?”

“Because,” Lydia drew the word out like she was talking to a five year old. “Some places have early deadlines, Scott, and if we miss out on the perfect school because of an early deadline I will wear your little werewolf pelt as a fur coat!”

Scott curled back into the couch, hiding slightly behind Danny. He didn’t speak again for the rest of the meeting, which turned to considerations for the next full moon while Lydia’s notebook was passed around the room. Eventually it ended up back in her hands, and she glanced over the list, twirling a lock of hair around her finger as she read. When Derek finished lecturing about staying in the woods and off roads and trails and away from campgrounds, she stood again.

“So,” she said, glancing between her notebook and the pack members, “mostly math and science?” She was greeted by nods and shrugs. “Good. Stiles and I can focus our search on strong STEM programs-”

“STEM?” Isaac asked, brow furrowed.

“Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics,” Stiles explained. Lydia nodded at him with a wide, bright smile he would have killed for maybe a year ago. Instead he snuck a look at Derek, trying to see if he was impressed by Stiles’ knowledge. His face was impassive.

“Right,” Lydia said. “We can also start local, and stick to public universities as much as we can.”

By the end of the summer, Stiles and Lydia had spreadsheets dedicated to the project, with one set for California schools, a second set for out of state schools, and a third for out of state towns that had multiple universities that were being considered. The spreadsheets were filled with information on programs, tuition costs, dorm options, application deadlines, application fees and entry requirements, and the two spent hours on the internet together debating the pros and cons of one school over another, and should this university be taken into consideration, and so on and so forth. A couple more months and a short list of about twenty options was drawn up of specific schools that everyone would apply to.

Of course, not everyone’s parents were okay with their child only applying to the exact same schools as their closest friends. Lydia usually avoided the topic at home, because her mother tended to blame all of Lydia’s “poor decisions” on her father and the divorce. Of course, not applying to Yale or the other Ivy Leagues was the biggest mistake she could make in her mother’s eyes, despite Lydia’s insistence that it wasn’t the undergrad program that really mattered, but the graduate program she would go to later.

Jackson’s adoptive parents tried talking to him about it, mostly focusing the conversation on “Is it really in your best interests to apply for the same schools as your girlfriend? Don’t you think you need a little distance?” Jackson just talked over their arguments, and eventually they gave up. Even much later, when he announced that he was getting a house with Danny and Isaac, they just sighed and said they’d put money into his account every month for rent and groceries.

Scott’s mom and Stiles’ dad knew about the pack, obviously, and while they weren’t thrilled about the arrangement, they understood. And while Allison’s dad understood, too, he was much more vocal about how displeased he was that his only child was “limiting her future to run with a bunch of animals,” but in the end he signed the papers and wrote the checks and drove down to visit the prospective schools.

Around January the letters started pouring in, both acceptance and rejection, though everyone got more of the first; Scott had pulled his grades up thanks to tutoring sessions and did well enough on his SATs to garner a shiner response. Only when everyone had heard back did they sit down as a pack to make the final decision.

It was Lydia who had gotten them from refusing to speak about going away to college to sitting in English 202, listening to the professor natter on a lesson that Stiles had learned years ago, playing with Lydia’s pretty, strawberry-blonde hair.

* * *

The night of the full moon, the pack met at the boy’s house, loaded into cars and drove to the woods. There, the wolves stripped, tossing everything from coats and sneakers, socks, bras and boxers into car trunks and preparing to shift. Any body modesty between the pack members had long since fled, back when the betas began learning how to fully shift - to look like natural wolves. The shift only came when they stopped fighting it, as they had at first. The pack They had thought that control over the shift came by stopping it whenever it came over them, but they had learned it was the opposite: control came from allowing the change to move through them, but maintaining control of their minds.

Starting with Derek, they shifted, one by one, into wolves. They waited restlessly for Allison, Lydia and Stiles, the human members, to zip up their own coats, lock the cars, and in Allison’s case, secure her bow. They weren’t expecting trouble, especially given the size of the local pack, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Lydia secured her ponytail and turned to the red-eyed wolf that was Derek, hands on her hips. “Ready?” she asked him.

Derek let out a low “woof” and turned into the forest. He took off running, and the rest of the pack followed.

Stiles let out a whoop of joy as he raced through the dark after his pack. This was his favorite part, the running. It wasn’t quite the same here, these weren’t the woods he knew, this wasn’t Derek’s territory, this wasn’t Beacon Hills, but that didn’t matter. He was safe here, with Derek, with Lydia, with Scott, Danny, Boyd, Allison, Isaac, Jackson, Erica. They circled around and among each other, the wolves not running faster than their human packmates could match, occasionally doubling back and nosing at the heels of a straggler. Sometimes, one wolf would break off from everyone else and let loose on their speed, race ahead and run as fast as they could before circling back to rejoin the group.

Tonight, Erica was the first to dart away, but not before lapping gently at Allison’s hand. The moonlight fell through the trees to leave droplets of pale light on the forest floor, smeared across fallen leaves and pine needles, low-grown plants, animal tracks and other leavings. The animals themselves were naturally absent, kept away from the area by the new presence of the new predators, the wolves whose eyes glowed bright in the dark, running with their tongues lolling out.

Erica announced her return by pouncing on Boyd from out of the darkness, blonde and black pelted wolves rolling a few times before Erica pinned him to the floor. Everyone stopped running to watch the tussle - Boyd snapped his jaws at Erica, who bared her teeth in a wolfy smile before hopping off him and prancing back to the pack. Allison laughed and crouched to hug her girlfriend, burying her face in Erica’s furry neck. Behind her, Boyd stood and gave himself a shake. His head hung a little as he trotted to Danny’s side for comfort. Danny’s wolf was black as well, but slightly smaller, and he nuzzled Boyd. Lydia giggled at the antics and went over to scratch Boyd behind the ears.

“She hurt your pride?” she asked him with a laugh. Boyd whined, low in his throat. She pressed her forehead to his. “Too bad, buddy. Erica’s faster than you silly boys.” She pulled away and tugged lightly at Derek’s tail. “C’mon!”

Stiles laughed and swatted at Scott’s hindquarters before running ahead. He knew the wolves would follow, and, with Lydia and Allison laughing along with them, they did, paws scrabbling at the ground as they took chase.

Hours later, the pack was exhausted, cuddled together in a pile in a secluded meadow. Lydia, Allison and Stiles were in the middle of the furry cuddle-puddle, wolf noses nudging at them every once in a while, wolf bodies curled close to keep them warm, wolf tails thumping idly against the ground and each other. As dawn started to light the horizon, Derek snuffled into Stiles’ ear and roused him. Stiles blinked back at his Alpha’s red gaze and buried a hand in his fur before hauling himself out of the warm pile. He tapped the others with his sneakered feet while Derek woke some of them with a nudge or a noise in their ears. Once everyone was up, they walked back to the cars, shifted back and dressed before piling in to return to campus. 

* * *

Stiles drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of his jeep as he drove to Derek’s apartment. The rest of the pack was distributed between Jackson’s car and Danny’s, all headed back to the house where they would undoubtably clear the living room, pull out cushions and mattresses and collapse in a massive pile to sleep. Only Stiles and Derek were headed for a different destination, and a real bed.

Stiles pulled in to an empty spot right next to Derek’s Camaro and parked. He waited a moment, engine off, before prodding at Derek, who had nodded off in the passenger seat. He was only partly dressed, having foregone both tee shirt and leather jacket when throwing clothes back on in the woods. His eyes fluttered open at Stiles’ poke and he looked around for a moment before fixing on Stiles.

“Hey, tired wolf,” Stiles said with a small grin. “We’re home. C’mon.”

Derek groaned and unbuckled his seatbelt and practically rolled out of the Jeep. Stiles followed, locking the doors and jogging after his boyfriend. They went up two flights of stairs and paused in front of the door to Derek’s apartment while he dug for his keys.

The apartment was small, but Derek didn’t need a lot of space, especially with most of the pack meetings taking place at the boys’ house. It was clean, and fairly nice, though Stiles didn’t take a lot of notice as he stumbled through on tired feet towards Derek’s bedroom. They both stripped, leaving their clothes where they fell and climbing into bed together and curled close, skin to skin.

Normally, after the full moon, they didn’t have energy for anything but just sleeping together. Never the less, Stiles squirmed against Derek, who was pressed up against his back, a wall of heat and muscle. They hadn’t had sex since before classes started, and along with a sudden, severe lack of sex, Stiles was also suffering from a sudden, severe lack of privacy. His cock stirred with interest.

“Stiles,” Derek muttered into Stiles’ neck. He shifted his hips, rocking slightly into Stiles’ back. “I hope you mean to start what I think you mean to start.”

Stiles moaned and twisted around to be face-to-face with Derek. “Two weeks without sex, Derek,” he said, and captured Derek’s lips with his own. His hands wrapped around Derek’s waist to draw him close.

Their cocks brushed against each other, sending sparks of pleasure up their spines and causing Derek to moan into Stiles’ mouth and shift his weight so he was lying on top of Stiles instead of beside him. He pulled away for a breath, rolling his hips down into Stiles’ for more contact. It’s good, so good, it always is with Stiles, except…

Derek pulls a little farther away, just enough to drag open the drawer in his bedside table and pull out a tube of lubricant. He snapped it open and squirted a little into his hand, causing Stiles to frown a little.

“Y’know, I don’t really think I have the energy for _that_ right now…” he said, a little mournfully.

Derek smiled and kissed the frown away. “Not for that,” he agreed. With his lube-coated hand, he reached down and stroked both of their cocks together, easing away the friction from before with the clear gel. Stiles groaned and thrust into his hand.

It was a lazy sort of love-making, soft moans and slow thrusts and gentle, open-mouthed kisses pressed against cheeks and throats and shoulders. Stiles came first, hand fisted in Derek’s hair. Derek followed not long after, blunt human teeth pressed against Stiles’ throat as his come splattered their chests and coated his hand.

They lay there panting for a few seconds, Stiles’ eyes already drooping from fatigue. Derek released their spent cocks and ran his sticky hand up Stiles’ torso, rubbing their cum into Stiles’ skin as he went.

“Are you—” Stiles glanced down. “You’re really invested in that scent thing, aren’t you?” he asked sleepily. Derek growled low in response, kissing his way down Stiles’ chest to where most of the scent was concentrated on his abs. “Man, you’re lucky I love you because you are weird as hell.” Derek growled again, nodding a little as he did. He knew it was strange, but right now he didn’t really care because this was exactly how his mate was supposed to smell, like forest and pack and sex and _Derek_. He rested his head on Stiles’ stomach, and they fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning was Saturday, thank God, and that meant Stiles and Derek got to sleep in. Derek woke first, around noon, and reluctantly left Stiles to sleep a little more while he showered and poured a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Stiles stirred some time later, stretching before tossing off the blankets and forcing himself up. He scratched idly at his stomach and wrinkled his nose when the move caused flakes of dried cum to dislodge and drift to the floor. Shower, definitely.

While he was under the hot spray (using Derek’s shampoo and soap, since his own was still in the dorms) Derek knocked lightly on the door.

“Morning,” Stiles said through the shower curtain. “Join me?”

“Can’t,” Derek replied. “My shift at the animal shelter starts in an hour.” _Right_. Derek had a job now, and couldn’t spend all of Saturday making sweet, sweet love to his teenage boyfriend. Stiles pouted a little at the reminder. “You can stick around as long as you like,” Derek offered. “Or maybe come by again tonight? I get off at eight. We could get Chinese.”

Stiles washed the suds out of his very short hair—he probably could get away with not using shampoo at all, but he liked the smell of the stuff Derek bought—and said, “Sounds good.”

“We’ve got another meeting with Alpha Ubick tomorrow afternoon,” Derek added when Stiles shut off the water and stepped out of the shower to towel himself off. “Talk about how the full moon went.”

“Mmm.” Stiles reached up to pull Derek into a kiss, careful not to drip on his clothes. “If there’s a meeting tomorrow, I should probably work on my homework some today.”

Derek’s green eyes watched a bead of water course down Stiles’ throat. “Right,” he said distractedly.

“But I’ll be back tonight.” Stiles finished drying off and pulled on boxers and jeans. Before he could get his shirt on, Derek had him pressed up against the sink and was working a new hickey on the side of his throat, chasing the water droplet. Stiles moaned and tangled his fingers in Derek’s hair, gently drawing him away. “You keep that up and you’ll be late to work.” Stiles’ voice was unsteady and his eyes were closed, trying to will away the very interested erection that had just made itself known.

Derek backed away to stand in the doorway, getting his own breathing back under control. “Right.”

They managed to eat and kiss goodbye without mauling each other again, and it wasn’t until Stiles was pulling into a parking space outside his dorm that he realized Derek’s favorite leather jacket was still in the back of the Jeep. 


End file.
